Chapter 16

‘I heard John the Baptizer tell of a Great One who would come and wreck the world—and begin all over again—with better people in control. He would march across lands and seas, upsetting old temples and thrones, humbling the rich, freeing the poor, levelling the road for all the people. Perhaps there’s some hope for a plan like that! Jesus has the power to do it—if he wished…But—how does he expect to save the world by pleading with these barefooted, half-starved country-people of Galilee!…Tell me, Simon! You have great faith. They are calling you “Petros” now. Do you honestly believe that there is any hope for Jesus’ Kingdom of Love?’ Her long, wet lashes opened wide as she faced him with an expression of childlike confidence. ‘I will try to believe—if you say you do!’

It had turned out to be one of the critical moments in the Big Fisherman’s experience. He felt himself gaining stature and dignity as he gazed into the girl’s questing eyes. Whatever had been his foolish thoughts of her, his infatuation, his desire, Esther had become as a trusting daughter now.

He laid his big hand over her small one, and said tenderly, ‘I believe, dear child, that Jesus is the Saviour of the world!’

After a little pause he went on, measuring his words.

‘As for these poor—not many mighty will be called into the Master’s service. He is not appealing to the mighty, for it is they who have made the world what it is. He does not expect to change the world into a garden today, but he is sowing the seed. We must be patient—and have faith in him.’

Esther rose—and smiled into his eyes.

‘Very well, Petros,’ she said softly, ‘I will be patient—and I will have faith!…Shall we go now?’

They retraced their steps in silence. At her tent-door, she whispered, ‘You have done much for me, tonight, Petros.’

‘And you have strengthened me, my child,’ said Peter.

The next afternoon, as if to confirm what Peter had said about the Master’s faith in the common people—and their value to him—he told a story of a king who had planned a wedding-feast for his son, the prince; and had invited all the great ones of his own and neighbouring states to be his guests. The nobility offered flimsy excuses. So—the king sent his servants out into the highways and hedges to find guests for the banquet.

After the crowd had dispersed for the day, Peter paused at Esther’s tent for a friendly word.

‘Did you tell the Master about our conversation last night?’ she asked.

Peter shook his head and smiled.

‘I think you have in mind his parable about the king’s banquet—and the guests from the highways and hedges…No; I had not told him about our talk. I didn’t need to. He knew of it without being told.’

‘Do you mean to say that Jesus knows—without hearing—what we say and think?’ asked Esther mystifiedly.

‘I’m afraid so,’ said Peter. ‘There’s abundant proof of it.’ He gave a slow grin, and added, ‘I always know when he disapproves of my thoughts. He does not chide me, but he calls me Simon.’

Esther laughed a little and said she had never heard of anything so strange.

‘And who are you today?’ she asked. ‘Simon or Peter?’

‘I’m Peter—today,’ he said, smiling.

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